


Cut Me Off

by Hipster_Cicero (King_Scar)



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-03-05 02:31:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13378245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/King_Scar/pseuds/Hipster_Cicero
Summary: The Devil put his head in his hand. He knew that he'd just royally messed up, kicking Dice out like that.But he couldn't bring himself to ask for his forgiveness. Even as Dice stood there, waiting for a response.I can't do this.





	1. Enough

King Dice couldn’t remember what happened when he woke up.

Somehow, he had wound up unconscious, with his back against a wall and a throbbing pain in his head. King Dice lifted his head and glanced at his surroundings. When he saw the roulette table before him, the memories came rushing back.

_Cuphead and Mugman._

_Losing the bet._

_“We’re gonna play a little game first!”_

_...shit._

_Great move, Dice._

King Dice rose to his feet. The entire casino looked like a disaster area. Flipped tables, broken glass, cards and poker chips strewn everywhere; _Damn, the boss is gonna be pissed_ , King Dice thought.

_Boss!_

Ignoring the pain in his head, King Dice staggered to his feet and ran as fast as he could to the back room. With the door shut, he knew that if the two porcelain headed idiots had gotten in there, they wouldn’t be able to hear him.

_Did they already get to him? Is he alright?_

_Of course he is. The guy’s unbeatable. There’s a reason he runs this place._

King Dice pressed the side of his head against the door, hoping to hear the agonized groans of the two idiots as the Devil beat the hell out of them.

Instead, he heard… laughter.

_What the hell?_

“Well, well, well… look how far you’ve come!” the Devil growled. “Not only did you bust up my good-for-nothing lackey King Dice…”

_What?_

Maybe the migraine had gotten to him. Maybe the Devil was bluffing. Maybe he had heard him incorrectly.

But something within King Dice told him that all of those things were false. No, he’d said it clear as day.

_Good-for-nothing lackey._

King Dice stepped back from the doorway. He felt his head reel with something other than pain. Confusion. Fear. Disgust.

Anger.

_I can’t just be that to him. I’m more than that! I’m his casino’s manager, I’m his right hand man, I’m…_

_I’m nothing to him._

On the other side of the doorway, King Dice could hear the brothers dueling against the Devil, and eventually, he could hear the Devil practically howling in agony as the brothers somehow managed to pummel him to the dirt, and in his head, King Dice knew that if the Devil made it out in one piece, he’d have more than just a few strong words for his good-for-nothing lackey.

_What the hell am I?_

\+ + + + +

“ _DIIIICE_!!"

King Dice heard his boss’ familiar bellow ring in his head. He stood up and opened the door to the Devil’s office, bracing himself for what he knew was coming. 

The Devil was an absolute wreck. His teeth and horns looked chipped, he had his right arm in a sling, and his fur had fallen out in patches. 

“You look like you just got dragged through Hell and back,” King Dice said. The Devil gave him what could only be described as the ultimate stink eye. 

“You don’t look much different,” the Devil snorted, waving his wrapped up hand in Dice’s general direction. 

The Devil slumped back in his throne and huffed, “Tell me, Dice, what the hell was that out there?" 

“What do you think?” King Dice hissed between his teeth. “They beat the shit out of me.” 

“You got knocked around by a couple of cups,” the Devil snarled. He rolled his eyes as King Dice said, “So did you, boss.” 

“I thought you would fight better than that,” the Devil said. “I made you, of all people, the manager of this place for a reason. You know how to cheat your way out of anything. You should’ve cheated your way out of that damn fight!” 

__Normally, Dice would’ve retorted with some sharp tongued remark. But now, he felt too exhausted to say anything.__

____

____

_I really am good for nothing._

“Go get me a whiskey on the rocks,” the Devil ordered. “Maybe that might help.” 

What King Dice said next was merely a spur of the moment decision, and it was one that he didn’t regret. 

“Get it yourself.” 

__The Devil glared at King Dice and said, “I’m not in the mood for games. Whiskey on the rocks, Dice.”_ _

__“Get it yourself, if you want it that bad,” King Dice said. The Devil sat up straighter and growled at King Dice, who met the Devil’s eye fearlessly._ _

__“Excuse me?” the Devil hissed._ _

__“You heard me,” King Dice said, starting to take steps towards the demon before him. “Get. It. Yourself.”_ _

__“What’s gotten into you, Dice?” the Devil asked, dumbfounded._ _

__“You mean, your _good-for-nothing lackey_?” King Dice snapped. He watched the color drain from the Devil’s face as he heard his own words spouted back at him. _ _

__“Is that all I am?” King Dice spat. “Just some lackey who’s here to follow your every whim? Do your bidding? Am I some slave to you? What do I get in return? Any respect? _No_! You know what, I’ve had enough. I’m not doing this anymore.”_ _

__King Dice turned on his heel and stormed to the door, ignoring the ringing in his head._ _

__“Diiiice,” the Devil said warningly. “You’ll regret walkin’ out that door.”_ _

__King Dice stopped, his hand on the doorknob, and turned to face his former boss._ _

__“Get your damned whiskey yourself,” he grunted. Without a second thought, he left the Devil’s office, slamming the door as loud as he could just to spite him._ _

__King Dice forced his way through the demolished casino, kicking over tables and shoving to the side anyone who got in his way. He felt everyone staring at him - Phear Lap, Pirouletta, the Tipsy Troop - but he didn’t care anymore._ _

__He kicked the casino’s front door open and never looked back._ _


	2. Solitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting a new life is hard when you have to go it alone.

He felt a new sense of freedom as soon as he walked out the door.

One thing many people didn’t know about King Dice was that he had never sold his soul. He’d started out working the tables, and eventually, his reputation helped him rise the ranks until he got handed the job of manager. (The Devil already had enough work to do, by his explanation.)

But because he’d never sold his soul, he’d retained all of his dreams for life, his aspirations, his desires, and everything else that came with a soul, things the Devil might’ve called “extra baggage,” something he normally said when trying to convince another sucker to hand over his soul.

And as soon as King Dice crossed the tracks, he felt all of that return.

In a way, it felt freeing, almost like some unseen curse had been lifted. It felt like he’d regained everything that he’d lost in the casino. He remembered that throughout his time working under the Devil, he’d seen people gain everything, but lose their very souls, figuratively and literally, in the blink of an eye. Just like what might’ve happened to those Cup brothers.

At least they managed to escape that fate.

_You gain the whole world, but at what cost?_

The garish lights of the casino got lost in the gray colors of the stone surrounding it, and the grotesque, grinning face of the Devil himself leered over all beneath the casino’s shadow, and the word CASINO arched over the doorway, and with a rush of wind and the sound of a train whistle, the train sped over the tracks, shattering the shimmering illusion of the Devil’s Casino before the former manager’s eyes.

King Dice nodded, as if all had been made right with the world, and turned away from the casino to take a path that he alone would decide.

\+ + + + +

The Devil got the whiskey himself. 

Not that it helped much. Sure, it helped numb his pain, but it only heightened his frustration. He had already been in a terrible mood, and the disappearance of King Dice only made it worse. 

_As if getting my own ass handed to me by a couple o’ mugs wasn’t bad enough._  
The Devil drained the entire glass of whiskey, as if he was taking a shot, and slammed it down on the arm of his throne, effectively shattering the glass. Quite frankly, he didn’t care.

_I’ll just get Dice to-_

_Wait._

The Devil growled in anger and clenched his fist, his claws digging into his palm. 

_Dice ain’t here anymore, dammit. You’ll have to get used to that._

It’d be just like before Dice became the manager. He’d have to run everything on his own.

Again.

The Devil groaned and got up, careful not to step on the shattered glass. He stepped out of his office, staggered out into the main lobby, and saw the disaster area of a casino he had left.

Everything had been completely trashed. Save for the path King Dice had probably cleared to leave, the casino looked like a hurricane had swept through and demolished everything. He already saw the rest of the casino employees, battered and beaten, struggling to clean up what remained of the Devil’s Casino.

As soon as the Devil entered the room, everyone stopped working and gazed up at their boss, weary expressions written all over their faces. The Devil groaned and rolled his eyes.

“He’s gone, ain’t ‘e, boss?” Phear Lap said, somehow managing to make his skeletal, gloomy frame even more morose.

“Where do you think he went?” Pip asked.

_Somewhere far away from here, that’s for sure._

“I’d tell ya if I knew,” the Devil said aloud. “For now, just… just do your jobs. Get this place cleaned up.”

The Devil waved his wounded arm in the general direction of the mess. Phear Lap just nodded and headed away. Everyone else went back into the cleaning routine, and the Devil returned to his office. 

He forgot about the shattered glass by his throne and promptly stepped in it. He hissed and lifted his foot, watching the blood drip onto the floor. He quashed his first instinct to call for King Dice, preparing to yell, then leaning back onto his throne. He didn’t bother to pick the glass from his foot. He just watched the little droplets of blood trickling into the cracks in the stone, disappearing into the seemingly unending ocean of gray.

The Devil slammed a fist onto the arm of his throne. Mentally, he cursed Dice for leaving the casino, telling himself, _If that good-for-nothing gameboard piece ever comes back, I’m skinning ‘im alive and using his head for a footrest._

\+ + + + +

It didn’t take King Dice long to realize that he had nowhere to go.

King Dice had never been a real family man. That was part of the reason he’d left home to work at the casino. Now, with his only home left behind, he had no clue what to do.

_Come on, Dice, you’re a grown man. You can make your way._

At least, that was what he hoped.

The one thing that had brought him to the top at the casino would now likely be the thing that dragged him down. Within the Devil’s Casino, his reputation had helped him scale the ranks; now, he knew that it would undoubtedly bring him more hate. 

_Should I try again? Give life another shot?_

He knew that he could, but in life’s great gamble, he had no idea what hand he’d be dealt. 

As he headed to the base of the mountains where the casino was situated, he came across a very familiar sight: the giant red die that had been his house at one point. He ran one hand over the wall, remembering how he’d allowed the Cup brothers to pass through his doors. 

King Dice chuckled to himself as he stepped through the doors once more. He knew this place all too well, and while it was more of a gateway than a real house, he’d certainly treated it like home. 

But that was at one point. When he’d left the casino, he’d left this place behind. 

King Dice strode to the other side of the little house and opened the door. 

_Just like leaving behind the casino._

Taking a deep breath, he left the little house behind, hopefully forever. If he wanted to give life a second chance, he’d need to leave every trace of his old life behind. 

The doors swung closed behind him, and he continued onto Inkwell Isle II. 

Already, he saw a major difference in the Isle’s inhabitants. Everyone had a seemingly happier demeanor, and a new light seemed to spread its rays over the land. King Dice clung to the shadows he knew well and simply observed. To his right, Grim Matchstick climbed up his tower and spread his wings, preparing to fly away. Just ahead of him, people of all ages ran down the path to Inkwell Isle I, and for a split second, King Dice thought, _Have they seen me?_

But then he heard their cheers and knew that they, in fact, hadn’t spotted him. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and followed behind the crowd, making sure to remain in the shadows. 

King Dice looked down at his feet, hating how familiar the shadows had become.

_Ya damn coward._

Making sure to stay away from the crowd, King Dice left the shadows and entered the natural light of the sun. It felt much different from the flashing lights of his former workplace, and he liked it.

_No more hiding. You’re a better man than that._

King Dice relished in the warmth, finding in it a sense of hope. 

The sun had risen on a new era for Dice, and he was determined to make the most of his freedom. Even if he had to go it alone.

\+ + + + +

The Devil couldn’t sleep that night. 

His body ached too much to let him sleep. The added pain in his foot didn't make matters any better.

He tossed and turned all night, thoughts running through his mind. 

_Casino trashed. Escaped souls. King Dice gone._

_What?_

Where had _that_ one come from?

The Devil rubbed his forehead. He tried to ignore the troublesome thought as he fought to get some sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, I did NOT expect that much love on my first chapter! You guys more than delivered!
> 
> Stay tuned for updates; something big might be coming soon... 
> 
> Amō vos!
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	3. Revelry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, we don't know what we have until it's gone.

The sun had already set by the time King Dice found the source of everyone's excitement. 

Someone had decided to throw quite the party on Inkwell Isle I. Everyone for miles around had been invited; an open door gathering, it seemed.

King Dice stayed near the back of the crowd, unsure if anyone might notice him. He couldn’t help but notice how different Inkwell Isle I looked, and in a good way. The various floral arrangements strongly suggested that Cagney Carnation had taken up the decorating. ( _Not a bad job_ , Dice had to admit. _Not bad at all._ )

As the night carried on, King Dice grew a little bit bolder, going into the crowds, rather than straying away. He walked towards the buffet laid out near the middle of the crowd and found that the food tasted fantastic. Captain Brineybeard had caught platters of fish, crabs, shrimp, and lobster. Most likely the Root Pack had prepared the sides, and Baroness von Bon Bon had whipped up quite the confectionary concoction. King Dice had never tasted anything that sweet before, and he found himself coming back for more.

After eating his fill, King Dice started to explore a little more. How no one had noticed him by now, he had no idea. 

_Must be one hell of a party, if no one’s seen me by now._

To be honest, Inkwell Isle never had many big parties, so whenever any were held, everyone usually went. King Dice found that he actually felt… happy. He hadn’t felt actual happiness in what felt like forever.

_If I knew that was what being happy felt like, I would’ve left the casino a long time ago._

Strolling around a little more, King Dice found several of the Devil’s former debtors performing for Inkwell Isle’s inhabitants. Cala Maria hung out near the coast, singing for anyone who passed by, entrancing quite a few partygoers. Beppi the Clown and Djimmi the Great entertained the younger kids, with Beppi making balloon animals and doing silly tricks and Djimmi hosting a little magic show. King Dice stopped to watch, amused by the children’s laughs and astonished reactions. 

_And to think that they were once monsters. Look what they’ve become._

As King Dice looked all around, he realized that just about all of the Devil’s former debtors had changed. All participated in the party in one way or another, and all of them seemed much more joyful than they’d been when they’d been bound by their soul contracts.

_If there’s good in them, maybe there’s some left in me, too._

\+ + + + +

The Devil woke up in the middle of the night sweating like crazy. 

He found sleep impossible, and he didn’t know why. The pain in his foot had subsided, and the throbbing in his arm and shoulder had dulled to a constant ache. Everyone else had gone to sleep, so noise wasn’t the culprit.

_I need a drink, dammit._

The Devil limped out of his bed, massaging his shoulder. He kept a personal liquor cabinet in his bedroom, where he held the strongest booze he could possibly buy. It usually helped him get to sleep when nothing else could.

He reached for the whiskey, but pulled back. 

_I’ll need stronger than that._

Besides, if it didn’t work earlier, it probably wouldn’t work now. With this in mind, the Devil instead grabbed the half-empty bottle of vodka, opened it, and gulped down a good deal of the bottle’s contents.

The alcohol flowed through his veins, effectively numbing the pain in his arm and shoulder. He’d built up a strong tolerance to liquor, but vodka always made him feel good, with the added side effect of going extremely loopy.

Hey, even fallen angels have drinking problems. 

The vodka coursing through his system made him severely tipsy, causing a stagger in his step as he attempted (in vain) to walk back to his bed. Instead, he took a few steps forward, tripped on nothing, and fell flat on his face. He groaned in pain and reached up to rub his now hurting nose. 

“Diiiice,” the Devil grumbled. “Hellp me uuup.”

He let go of the vodka bottle, letting the rest of the contents spill out onto the floor. The Devil tried to get up, which ended in him flopping onto his side.

“Diceeeey,” he moaned. “Pleeease, ah didn’ mean any of it!”

The Devil flipped onto his back. He hated this, the feel of vulnerability, of helplessness. He felt like a turtle on its back as he lay there, totally inebriated, unable to get up. 

_Shouldn’ta said anythin’. Shouldn’ta sent ‘im away like tha’._

“Diiiiice!” the Devil howled. He dissolved into a fit of bawling, finding it hard to string a few words into a coherent sentence.

“Pleee-hee-heease,” he cried out. “Jus’ please come back. I’ll make it up to ya!”

He didn’t know that right now, most of his casino’s employees could hear him blubbering. He couldn’t have cared less about the fact that he looked completely ridiculous. All he knew was that King Dice was gone, it was all his fault, and he wanted him back.

Now.

\+ + + + +

King Dice settled in for the main event.

Apparently, whoever had hosted this party had recruited some of the Devil’s former clients to put on a sort of finale show, a final act to really make the gathering really worth attending. 

At this point, King Dice decided not to take more risks. He’d almost been recognized one too many times for his liking, so he stayed at the back of the crowd once again.

_Someday, I’ll be respected again. I won’t be just the Devil’s Casino’s manager._

On a great stage by Inkwell Isle’s coast, Sally Stageplay began to sing, a childlike dance in her every step. King Dice chuckled to himself, thinking, _She didn’t need to sell her soul to get that voice._

Overhead, he watched as Hilda Berg performed a great aerial show, transforming into various celestial creatures and animals made of clouds, while Wally Warbles flew more freely than he’d ever flown before, swirling around in loop-the-loops and corkscrews, and Grim Matchstick breathed fireballs high overhead which plumed into glittering red and gold ribbons, and as Sally Stageplay hit a high note that gave King Dice a pleasant shiver, he saw the starlet holding out her hand to two kids at the very front of the crowd, two kids King Dice almost instantly recognized to be Cuphead and Mugman, the brothers who gave the Devil his due.

At any other time, King Dice would’ve felt a seething anger at the two. They had wrecked the casino, beaten the hell out of him, and made him lose his bet with his former boss.

But he understood that they had done the right thing. _They_ had burned the soul contracts. _They_ had brought such happiness to Inkwell Isle. _They_ had done all of this, given everyone a chance.

_Gotta admit, not too bad for a few kids._

He saw that the kids stood proudly onstage, beaming to the crowds below, which had started cheering even louder for the ones who had done the right thing.

_Not too bad._

\+ + + + +

The Devil managed to stumble his way back to bed.

The alcohol had worn off due to him not being the average mortal. He’d realized what he’d said in his drunken haze and hated himself for it.

_Dammit, Satan. What the hell?_

He’d turned from the Prince of Darkness into the biggest baby on Inkwell Isle. All because of some ridiculous craving for alcohol and his brain refusing to let him sleep.

And what had he blubbered about? His former manager, begging like a child for him to come back.

_You’re stronger than that. Come on. You can run this place on your own._

But something within him said, No you can’t. Was it a remnant of weakness? Some of his old angel self coming back to bite him? Understanding? He didn’t know.

But he did know that he had made a very bad choice. Thinking back to his talk with the Cup brothers before they’d pounded him to the dirt, he’d called his right hand man good-for-nothing, when in reality, that was far from the truth. He’d run the giant casino with ease. He’d swindled his way to more than a few soul contracts.

He’d been the Devil’s only real friend.

_Somebody help me, because I just fucked up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap guys. Over 100 kudos in under a month?! You people are awesome!!
> 
> Anyways, I figured I'd update today because I've had a few ideas. Updates will probably be more frequent. 
> 
> Amō vos!
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero
> 
> (P. S. If you like fantasy and art, I'm starting up a YouTube channel dedicated to just that. I'll keep you posted!)


	4. Reaching Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone needs a little help in the long run.

The party ended with a bang.

Grim Matchstick’s fireballs had exploded into brilliant bursts of color, showering in glittering sparks from the sky. The crowd had adored it, cheering wildly. 

King Dice loved the whole party. It felt vastly different from the parties held at the casino, but different in a way he enjoyed. There were no people giving away their souls, or blowing their life savings with a roll of the dice, or risking their whole lives on a hand of cards.

Now, because the party was over, King Dice realized that he still had nowhere to go. But as he looked towards the stage, he had an idea.

_Who’s their old man? Elder Teapot, or something? Maybe he could help me out. He’s kind enough, right?_

Yes, that sounded like a good idea. There was a glimmer of hope that he’d be nice and let him stay for the night.

Party guests had begun filing out earlier. Now, there were very few people left, King Dice included. He yawned, feeling exhaustion wash over him. He needed to get some sleep. King Dice waited farther in the woods until everyone was gone. He felt too tired to deal with people right now. 

Eventually, the final partygoers trickled out, staggering away in slaphappy delight. King Dice went out of the woods and walked towards the mushroom shaped house which he figured must’ve belonged to the Cup brothers. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw one of them (he couldn’t tell which, at that distance) close one of the windows.

Taking a deep breath, King Dice stepped up to the door and, before he could regret his decision, knocked four times.

After a few moments, the door swung open, revealing the stout figure of the Cup brothers’ grandfather, rubbing his eyes and muttering something. He started to say something along the lines of, “Yes, yes, what is it?” but cut himself off when he saw the lanky figure of King Dice looming before his door. 

“K-King Dice!” he stuttered. “W-What brings you here at this time of night?”

“I apologize, Mr…” King Dice’s voice trailed off, trying to remember the old man’s name.

“Just call me Kettle,” the older toon said, waving a hand dismissively.

“Mr. Kettle,” King Dice said. “Yes. Do you mind we talk about this inside? It’s awfully cold out here.”

“Well, golly, come on in!” Elder Kettle said. He stepped away from the door and allowed King Dice to come inside. It was a quaint little place, Dice noted, but cozy. Not overly extravagant, like the casino. He could get used to it.

Elder Kettle sat on the old rocking chair near the potbelly stove and drew a breath from his pipe. King Dice sat cross legged on the floor, feeling awfully like a child himself.

“Now, what draws you here?” Elder Kettle asked, blowing a smoke ring towards the ceiling. “Quite an odd hour, ain’t it?”

“Indeed it is,” King Dice said with a small smile. “I, uh… I’ve decided to set out on my own.”

“Didn’t you work at the Devil’s Casino?” Elder Kettle queried. King Dice grimaced.

“Yes sir,” he said. “But I’ve had enough o’ him. He’s treated me like dirt for too long. I’ve left the Casino behind.”

“Really?” Elder Kettle said, raising an eyebrow. King Dice understood that he likely didn’t trust him, and he didn’t blame the kettle for his suspicion. Hell, he wouldn’t trust himself either.

“I just need a place to stay,” King Dice said, hoping he sounded as sincere as he felt. “I’m out on my own.”

Elder Kettle puffed on his pipe and scrunched up his face, as if deep in thought. Finally, he said, “I don’t see any harm in letting you stay for a night or two. Just don’t wake the boys. Cuphead gets cranky when he’s woken up.”

“You won’t hear a sound outta me, Kettle,” King Dice said, smiling with relief. Elder Kettle got out of his rocking chair and led King Dice into a spare bedroom, where the exhausted die slipped off his coat and shoes and undid his tie before collapsing into bed, falling asleep mere seconds after his head hit the pillow.

\+ + + + +

 

The Devil rose before the sun that morning. 

This would normally be the point where he and Dice - damn Dice - would be restocking the liquor, getting the employees in gear, and basically prepping the casino for its usual opening time at noon. 

But today, the Devil had another idea. He knew that there’d be no way he’d be able to restore the casino by noon. Yes, he had power, but he primarily used his abilities for cheating, taking souls, and anything involved with destruction. He certainly didn’t use it for creation. That was God’s job. 

Besides, he was the Devil, the Prince of Darkness himself. He had a reputation to uphold.

The Devil whistled, as if calling a dog. Seconds later, four inky black imps materialized from beneath the floor and threw themselves prostrate at the Devil’s feet.

“Listen up,” their master said. “I’m gonna need your help.”

\+ + + + +

King Dice got the deepest sleep he’d had in a long, long time.

When he woke up, he felt frantic, knowing that he’d overslept, and that the Devil would probably force him to work after hours for sleeping in. Then, he remembered the events of the previous day, and relief swept over him like a western wind.

_The Devil ain’t your boss anymore, Dice. You can finally get a good sleep._

King Dice cracked his back and stretched his arms over his head. He knew he looked disheveled, but now that he was on his own, he didn’t need to look so professional all the time.

He walked into the main room, where Elder Kettle waited in his rocking chair. From a different direction came the two Cup brothers, yawning and walking with an exhausted slouch. When Cuphead turned his head, he saw the former casino owner standing there and jumped backwards, almost knocking Mugman over.

“Elder Kettle, what’s he doing here?!” Cuphead half shouted. Mugman looked up and noticed King Dice as well, then staggered backwards behind his brother. King Dice raised one hand, as if motioning for them to stop.

“Now, boys, be nice,” Elder Kettle scolded, taking his pipe out of his mouth and pointing it in the brothers’ general direction. “Mr. King Dice needed a place to sleep, so I let him have the spare room.”

“Why do you need a p-place to sleep?” Mugman stammered. “D-Don’t you live at the c-c-casino?”

“Not anymore,” King Dice grunted. 

“The Devil kicked you out?” Cuphead guessed, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“I left,” King Dice replied. He heard the pride in his voice as he spoke. “Had enough. I’m on my own, now.”

The brothers went silent and dropped their defensive stances.

“Well golly, Mr. Dice,” Cuphead said. “I didn’t know.”

“‘S fine,” King Dice responded, stifling a yawn. He thought he heard a scratching noise outside, but he decided to ignore it. He chalked it up to animal noises and turned away from the window.

“C’mon, boys,” Elder Kettle spoke up. “Let’s get ya something to eat.”

Elder Kettle got up from his rocking chair and walked out of the main room. The boys excitedly ran right past him, and King Dice followed, happy to take the kettle up on his offer of breakfast.

\+ + + + +

“You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

The Devil raised an eyebrow and glared down at the imp which had just told him the whereabouts of his former right hand man. The imp swished his spade-like tail and shivered with fear.

“N-No sir,” the imp said. “H-He’s there, with Cuphead and Mugman.”

The Devil growled and stomped his foot, making the imp cower in fear. The larger demon had smoke practically furling from his ears and nostrils now.

“W-What now, boss?” the imp squeaked out. 

The Devil knew he wanted Dice back. He knew that he had to get him back as soon as possible. But he also knew that, because of his soul, Dice wouldn’t go down without putting up one hell of a fight. He’d have to be careful about this.

“Keep an eye on him,” he ordered. “Come back to me by noon. Don’t let him catch ya.”

“Y-Yes sir!” the imp said. All four imps jumped to their feet, nodded in unison, and melted through the floor, leaving the Devil alone once more in the ruined casino.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention how much you guys warm my screwed up heart?
> 
> Honestly, it's thanks to you I have any confidence in my writing at all. Thank you so much. 
> 
> Amō vos!
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	5. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is good outside the casino, but the Devil still has his hand in King Dice's life.

The sun shone bright on Inkwell Isle as the Cup brothers hiked out to a nearby stream, fishing rods over their shoulders and containers of bait in their hands. 

King Dice leaned against the house as Elder Kettle relaxed in his rocking chair, puffing on his pipe. The taller toon watched as the brothers strolled almost aimlessly out of sight.

“So, you let them go out on their own like that?” King Dice said. “Isn’t that a bit dangerous?”

“Nah, not ‘round these parts,” Elder Kettle replied. “Besides, I think the boys’ve learned their lesson.”

King Dice grinned and shook his head. “Eh, you’ve got a point there. Suspect they won’t be tryin’ anything like that again.”

_They’re not the only ones who’ve learned some kind of lesson._

“I’m guessin’ you don’t see many kids ‘round the casino, huh?” Elder Kettle asked. 

“More than you might think,” King Dice said, his smile fading. “I saw some kids at the casino, some of ‘em younger than Cuphead and Mugman. Usually, it’s parents, older relatives, sometimes even their buddies bringing ‘em there.” He bowed his head, then continued. “Other times, they weren’t so lucky.”

Elder Kettle offered no response, as if he wanted to hear more.

“I can’t tell you how many helpless, naive kids I’ve seen bet it all, then lose it all twice as quick,” King Dice said. “Your two boys got lucky. Normally, the Devil steals their souls on the spot. I dunno why he decided to give your two a shot, but consider yourself lucky.”

Elder Kettle stared up at King Dice, his face both confused and alarmed. King Dice noticed the very awkward silence and cleared his throat.  
“But, with the casino all blown to bits, I don’t think we have to worry about that anymore,” he said. “I think your boys taught the Devil a lesson.”

Elder Kettle’s face regained its carefree expression. King Dice watched the little puffs of smoke from the pipe sail over the treeline.

“I’d wager to say that they taught you a little lesson too, eh?” Elder Kettle chuckled. King Dice couldn’t help feeling slightly indignant, but he inevitably gave in to laughter.

“I guess they did,” he agreed, smiling as he heard Mugman shout, “Hot dawg!” from somewhere in the forest.

Neither King Dice nor Elder Kettle noticed the four little imps hiding deep within the woods, spying on their every move.

\+ + + + +

The Devil couldn’t believe it. _His_ former right hand man, casino manager, and only friend was, if his minions weren’t lying to him, hanging out with Elder Kettle. He was basically fraternizing with the enemy. 

He paced around his throne room, not caring if all Inkwell Isle heard his stomping. _His_ friend, getting all chummy with the grandfather, guardian, _whatever_ of the two _bozos_ who’d beaten him to the ground! Outrageous! 

_What the hell is he thinking, getting all buddy-buddy with Elder Kettle like that?_

“I’ll show him what happens when he becomes… friends with people like him,” the Devil growled under his breath. “Grr, I’ll grind ‘im to dust, I’ll rip his soul straight from his body, I’ll use his head as a barstool, I’ll… I’ll…”

The Devil stopped his pacing and angered muttering. His tail slumped to the ground. He knew in what heart he had left that he didn’t mean any of those things. 

He just couldn’t treat his only friend like that.

“M-Master?” the club-tailed imp hiccuped, trembling like a leaf in the wind. The Devil sighed.

“Bring him to me,” he ordered. “But don’t be forceful. If I find a scratch or a bruise on him when you bring him back, I’ll melt _all four_ of you in the Lake of Fire.”

“A-As you wish, M-M-Master!” the imp squeaked. With a loud squelching noise, the imps disappeared through the floor once again. The Devil sat back on his throne, waiting for their return.

\+ + + + +

The Cup brothers brought back quite a catch that day.

Elder Kettle brought the fish inside to cook for lunch. King Dice listened to the brothers as they whipped up classic fisherman’s tales about the seemingly Herculean struggles they faced as they tried to reel in their quarry. His patience with playing games of poker which sometimes went for hours came in handy, he found out.

After the brothers finished recounting their odyssey, King Dice went into the kitchen. As he watched Elder Kettle preparing the fish, he got an idea.

“If I may,” he said, “but you wouldn’t happen to have any lemon or garlic, would ya?”

“I sure do,” Elder Kettle said. “You got somethin’ in mind?”

“Just a little trick I learned from the casino,” King Dice said. Elder Kettle stepped away from the fish and said, “Suit yourself.”

Thirty minutes later, King Dice served the bass fillets with his trademark flourish. He added a squeeze of lemon to each fillet before anyone could take a bite.

“It’s a recipe I learned from working the kitchens,” King Dice said with a wink. “Dig in!”

Cuphead and Mugman eyed the fish nervously. Mugman was the first to take a bite, and when he did, his eyes lit up with surprise. 

“Good gosh, Mr. King Dice, this is good!” he exclaimed after swallowing his food. Cuphead tried the fish next. His delighted expression said it all.

“I’m glad you like it,” King Dice beamed. “Sometimes, people would come to the casino just to have-”

A flash of black by the window made King Dice fall dead silent. Everyone at the table put down their utensils when they noticed his tense face. Cuphead began to say, “Mr. King Dice?” but Mugman shushed him and pointed to the window near the dining room. Gradually, King Dice snuck over to the window and peered out. Just below his nose sat a creature he knew too well.

King Dice threw the window up and thrust his arm outside. He grabbed onto a shiny, black horn, but the imp melted out of his grip. He cursed under his breath, knowing that this could only mean one thing.

“M-Mr. King Dice?” Mugman said. 

King Dice turned to the family, his expression somber. He didn’t need to say a word for them to understand.

“I think it’s time for me to go back.”

_He found me._

\+ + + + +

The Devil knew instinctively that they’d found him. He didn’t know how, but something in his gut told him that his imps had done their job.

He tapped his claws on the arm of his throne. Mentally, he prepared himself for what was to come.

_I hope to God that you understand, Dice. I hope you understand._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno why, but Elder Kettle reminds me of Yoda. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this long overdue chapter!
> 
> Amō vos!
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	6. Impossible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some things that just can't be done.

For King Dice, the walk to the Devil’s Casino felt like a death march.

He’d heard the voices of the brothers calling out to him, ominously reminding him of the souls of the Devil’s damned giving one last cry of repentance. The imps used little force, but they made it clear that they wouldn’t let him get away. 

King Dice said nothing, but he let them know that he still had his dignity. He held his head high, kept his expression stern, and met the eyes of anyone who stopped to watch. The imps tried getting him to look at the ground, but they only told him to do so. King Dice couldn’t understand. Normally, the Devil roughed up anyone he had any sort of problem with. 

He assumed it was because he was the former manager. Maybe the Devil wanted him back? It was always plausible. Unlikely, but plausible.

An eternity seemed to pass before King Dice saw it, the gray and neon exterior of the place that had once been his home, his workplace, his life. He smiled internally at the damage done to it, feeling in it a sense of victory.

_Serves this place right._

With a sudden jerk, the imps tugged him forward, and King Dice marched forward towards the Devil’s Casino for what he hoped was the last time.

A sense of dread filled the pit of his stomach as the imps dragged him towards the door. Every nerve in King Dice’s body told him to tear himself free and give the imps one hell of a fight, but he held firm. He wouldn’t give the Devil the satisfaction of seeing him run.

_You gotta face your fears somehow, Dice. Runnin’ away won’t do anything good._

One of the imps let go of King Dice’s arm and ran towards the front door. He shoved it open and shouted in a voice reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard, “We’ve got ‘im, boss. Unharmed, just like you told us!”

A deafening silence followed before the familiar voice of the Devil himself rumbled, “Bring him in.”

King Dice straightened his stance and clenched his jaw as he was led into the Casino and towards his fate.

\+ + + + +

The Devil stared at the figure within his office.

It was definitely King Dice, yes, and unharmed. His minions hadn’t lied to him. But for some reason, he felt rather jealous of the former manager. Maybe because he didn’t have a single scratch on him, not even from his fight with the Cup brothers. The Devil knew he still looked like utter trash.

“Alright, alright, you’ve done your jobs,” he said, waving a paw at the imps, who all sighed with obvious relief. “Get outta here.”

“Y-Yes sir!” they said in unison before melting back into the floor. The Devil watched for a moment, then looked up to face Dice.

_Just you and me now, I guess._

“You’re lookin’ a hell of a lot better,” the Devil said, gesturing to the figure before him. Dice just snorted. 

“Can’t say the same for yourself, huh?” he asked. The Devil swore he saw the ghost of his trademark smirk brush across his face, if only for a split second.

“The imps told me you were staying with the brothers,” the Devil said. “Tell me, what’s that all about?” 

Dice shrugged. “Needed a place to stay, I guess. Elder Kettle was awfully nice to me about everything.”

The Devil felt himself growing angry, but he took a few deep breaths. He wasn’t here to argue.

“King Dice,” the Devil began, fixing his eyes to the ground. “I… I have something I wanna say.”

“Oh?” Dice murmured, stepping forward. “Tell me.”

The Devil inhaled, then tried to say what was on his mind. His mouth couldn’t seem to properly form the words in his head.

_Come on, Satan. Get a hold of yourself._

The Devil put his head in his hand. He knew that he'd just royally messed up, kicking Dice out like that. 

But he couldn't bring himself to ask for his forgiveness. Even as Dice stood there, waiting for a response. 

_I can't do this._

\+ + + + +

King Dice knew full well what his old boss wanted to say.

He’d never been able to form a proper apology. Once, when he’d first started working there, he had accidentally let someone get away with cheating right under his nose. The Devil had been furious with him, but let him off the hook since it was only his first week there. He’d tried to say sorry, which came out as a jumble of vowels and consonants. Still, King Dice accepted his attempted apology.

Another time, when the Devil had been in a rotten mood, he lashed out at King Dice for doing seemingly nothing at all. Once again, he’d brought the young employee into his office to say sorry, and again, it didn’t come out properly. King Dice understood anyways.

He could list a dozen other examples off the top of his head. Not once had he ever heard the Devil say, in fluent English, Latin, or whatever other tongues he knew, “I’m sorry.”

King Dice knew what the Devil wanted. 

But he wasn’t having any of it.

“Well, if you’ve got nothing to say, I’ll be on my way,” King Dice said, faking disappointment. He shook his head and met the Devil’s plaintive expression.

King Dice turned on his heel and moved to leave the office. He heard the Devil’s frantic babbling behind him, but he paid it no mind. It meant nothing to him anymore.

Then, just as King Dice put his hand on the old wooden door to push it open, he heard the Devil blurt out, “Wait!”

King Dice froze, then turned back around, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

The Devil took a very deep breath and managed to sputter out, “...I’m s-s-sorry.”

King Dice had to admit, he was impressed. He never thought he’d hear those words come out of the mouth of the Prince of Darkness. Yet his mind was made up, and at this point, no one - not even the embodiment of sin itself - could change it.

“I accept your apology, Devil,” King Dice said. The Devil’s face lit up somewhat, and a smile began growing on his lips.

_But I’m not letting you off the hook so easily._

“...but I ain’t coming back here again,” King Dice finished.

And with that, he smiled, shoved the door open, and turned his back on the Devil for good.

He felt the helplessness from the giant demon as King Dice walked out of the Casino, and he relished in the freedom over his mind and soul, and he yearned to go once again into the outside world and prove that he was a changed man, and he knew that no matter how hard he tried, there was absolutely nothing that the Devil could do about it.

_I’m free._

\+ + + + +

The Devil’s mind went blank.

What had he done wrong? He’d apologized, and meant it for once in his ridiculously long life. He’d really wanted to make amends. He didn’t even shout at Dice or yell at him once. He even made sure his minions didn’t so much as scratch him.

Why had Dice not understood?

It was unfair. This whole thing was unfair. His livelihood was destroyed, his Casino in total ruin, and his best (and only) friend had just abandoned him like he meant nothing whatsoever. This was God’s punishment for all he’d done, he was sure of it.

The Devil put his face in his hands and screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should explain why this chapter is as late as it is. 
> 
> Recently, I've begun work on a pretty ambitious film project I'm thinking about uploading to YouTube. It requires a lot of 3D animation, so I've been spending a ton of time working on Blender. It's time consuming, yes, but it's gonna be worth it once the final project is completed. Understand that this fic isn't gonna be one of those ones that's just kinda left hanging. I wouldn't do that to you.
> 
> But yeah, you guys have been so supportive with this fic (Just look at the comments for proof!) and I find myself coming back once again to write more. So, this chapter, it's all for you. You rock, mi optimates!
> 
> Amo vos!
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it is I, Hipster Cicero the Angstmeister, coming to spread my territory into the Cuphead fandom. 
> 
> Basically, there's gonna be angst. Maybe a happy ending, I dunno. 
> 
> Amō vos!
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


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